Tag Archives: menopause

Nothing says I’m looking to copulate like a pair of cowboy boots and a summer dress. Try an A.S.U. red light/green light party sporting green, wear a dress the size of a face cloth in Hollywood on a Friday night, stumble naked through Isla Vista on Halloween and you still won’t elicit half as many suitors. It’s a look that transcends races[1] and regions while remaining very North American[2].

During the summer in Santa Monica, there’s a 28ish blonde shopping in cowboy boots and a dress in every aisle of Whole Foods. On a sunny Sunday afternoon at Echo Park Lake, right next to the carne asada, you’ll find pallid women struggling to look like pin-ups, showing more tattoo than skin in their own version of the boot and dress combo. Droves of them fill up the continent. Many women, who wouldn’t be caught dead in the look, find themselves subconsciously purchasing it. While some might claim its on trend[3], others stumble upon it. It seems to be inextricably tied to a woman’s biological clock. Something happens between the age of 27 and 35, where for whatever reason, women don this salacious armor and hit beaches, parks, barbeques and farmer’s markets, all in hopes of a little protected or unprotected procreation.

The odd thing is, it doesn’t look good. In fact, it’s an awful look. Logistically, the boots cover up the slenderest part of the leg and the dress exposes from around the mid-thigh down. What’s essentially left is the largest part of the calf and a couple bulbous knees. You might have legs like Coco Rocha, but they look like Rosie O’Donnell’s when you’re strutting your stuff in that attire.

And yet those cowboy boots and summer dresses demand the interest of all those who are biologically predisposed to women. It’s comparable to flint and steel. Bang them together and you get a hot spark. When a woman puts on a dress and then cowboy boots, pheromones literally spew out of her. No straight man or lesbian[4] is immune. The androgynous hipster, who is in a band with his MacBook Pro, looks up from his mid-afternoon coffee. The junior agent, who is sweating through his off-the-rack suit, quits eating his Cliff Bar breakfast as she breezes by on Avenue Of The Stars. It’s like a peacock fawning its feathers. It’s nature at work. An E.D. riddled man reading yesterday’s paper on a park bench perks up. A six-year-old boy holding his mother’s hand as they walk the promenade lets go when a woman 25 years his senior swaggers by. It’s an inexplicable, unannounced, seismic, sexual awakening.

Just so there isn’t any confusion, this ensemble has nothing to do with the ranchera/vaquera, Mexicana cowgirl thing. It also has nothing to do with those large boned, ‘I grew up on a farm and did 4H in high school’ girls. Those people wear cowboy boots every day and dresses on occasion. This is more an assessment of what drives a woman who doesn’t usually wear cowboy boots to buy a pair and wear it with a dress. The succinct answer: her biological clock. Katy Perry is probably the poster child of this fountain of libido movement. Although dealing strictly with the facts, I can’t say I have ever witnessed her wearing the aforementioned combination. But lets get real for a second, what do you think she’s stomping around Russell Brand’s honey wagon in right now?

I’ll leave you with a bit of advice: If your significant other tries to leave the house wearing the abovementioned, STOP HER… on two counts.

It looks heinous. Strangely seductive, but heinous.

Mark my words sir, if she leaves in that outfit you will be cuckolded[5].

[1] It may or may not transcend race. This article is based largely off of encounters with white girls. Not that Vera Wang, Vida Guerra and Serena Williams don’t dabble, I just haven’t seen it.

[2] Based off a study in 2009, Calgary had more women per capita in summer dresses and cowboy boots than anywhere else on the planet.

[4] This fact hasn’t been confirmed by an actually lesbian, but the Exchanging Pleasantries Office (a gentlemen’s club of sorts, gentlemen in the traditional sense, not in the Spearmint Rhino sense) is still pretty sure it qualifies as a fact.

[5] If your significant other is simply in drag, you’re on your own. We didn’t research that.